Once Upon A Time In Westeros
by Katherine2701
Summary: Emma introduces Killian to the world of Game of Thrones, or more accurately, I write my critique on each episode through the eyes of Emma and intertwine many of my fantastical ideas that will never make it into the show a lot of smut. Trigger Warnings. Returned from my holiday; chapter 6 coming up shortly
1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time in Westeros:

Chapter 1:

It had been a week since Emma had returned from Camelot and the grasp of the Dark One's curse which had tormented her for almost half a year; tired, dirty and more then a little hysterical after Snow and David had decided to near smoother her with blankets and over the top hope speeches. But finally, she was given their 'permission' to be alone for at least a few hours with Killian after so long apart. Well, not apart per say, every single day she had saw him, talked to him and been by his side but it seemed like the entire town was out to stop any quiet moment alone with him where they could talk without being under the over-the-top paternal glares of David or the hysterics of Grumpy screaming about some 'massive problem' or whatever he started to blow out of proportion. But. now in the safety of the loft, they were finally given a moments peace since David was on call in the Sherrifs station and Snow had taken Neal to Aurora's for a little baby playdate for some mommy time that had taken a backseat thanks to Storybook's wave after wave of crises.

The two relaxed on the sofa, content to keep in comfortable silence and wrapped in each other's presence. Finally, after so long alone and abandoned by those close to them, the two could let down their guards enough to share a quiet night in without the drama which seemed to follow them any where they went. Although still incredibly unsettled by her time as the dark one, Emma had finally dismantled her walls enough to dress in her most comfortable of attires; a threadbare jumper and sweatpants that seemed to be heaven compared to the corset she had worn as the Dark One's elborate wardrobe in Camelot which looked the part but was a complete nightmare on a person's waist. Who cared what she looked like now? Killian surely didn't; although he'd most likely prefer her not to be wearing anything at all, no matter the clothes he still looked at her as if she was the most stunning person he'd ever seen. Speaking of the pirate, it seemed the modern world had finally beaten him into a more contemporary style of clothes and Emma was practically drooling over how good that was. While the whole Captain wardrobe was definately sparking some, ok a lot, of nightime fantasy's that dangerously went more often then not into the adult area of imagenings; the whole town rebel was definately a rewarding sight. Not to mention with the whole longcoat gone, Emma now had the extrodinary sight of a shapely dierre every morning now to cheer her up and boy did it do that!

The silence dragged on, while a thought entered Emma's mind on whether she could introduce Hook to another of this realm's differences in the form of the boxset sitting in the DVD cabinet gathering dust. While she had watched up to the season 2's finale, holy freaking crap was that an ending, she had to confess a growing need to catch up after listening to Ruby's diatribes of sobbing/tirades of anger at the dinner earlier on in the day. The only problem was that it wasn't exactly like she could watch it with her parents or Herny about; wouldn't that be embarising? But now, in this quiet moment, it was running around her mind and taunting her with the pros and cons of watching it with Hook. Granted it had a little more adult themes then regular tv, hey its HBO they have to bring in the target audience somehow, would he be interested in that sort of thing? It had that whole medieval vibe to it that he'd understand unlike more modern ones that left him confused or looking up quite obvious jokes or catchphrases on google all the time. Plus, the guy had spent years being a pirate so the violence wouldn't really affect him would it? Then there was the sex, which of course she wasn't worried about since even she confessed to being a little hot under the collar after a few infamous scenes. No, the problem was whether it was worth getting up from her position to get the bloody thing and then having to reajust so she could watch alongside him. A challenge considering he was like her own personal heater and was a very comfortable pillow to rest her head. But she always did like a challenge ...

She got up, quietly communicating with her eyes that she wasn't running away from the intimate moment they had shared to the slightly dare she say it concerned look on his face as she moved to pluck the first disc from the boxset of Game of Thrones to place in the DVD player as she turned it on and snuggled back into his embrace so she could watch it comfortably in the arms of her ... boyfriend ... lover ... no partner. She prefered that, after all they hadn't exactly done enough physically to qualify as lovers yet, she was sorry to say and there was no way in hell did she classify him as a mere boy!

"Love? What are you-" He looked at her with those forget-me-not eyes of his that spelled confusion at her sudden actions. He was adorable when confused, he really was, like a puppy trying to jump the gap between the couch and the table and failing miserably.

"Shush, we finally have a quiet moment and I will personally decapitate you if I have to miss out on a chance to catch up!" she laughed, how long ago had she done that and shot him a look of amusement at his adorable look of pride on his face at her pathetic threats.

"You always did have a little pirate in you love!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

The scene opened on the night's watchmen heading out on a scouting mission north of the Wall, Emma dug down into Killian's warmth as he watched them leave clad all in black as per their custom. His soft breaths were silent against her, as he observed the three men wandering the icy landscape. Emma shivered slightly, remebering all too well her last experience with ice that had left her near hyperthermic till he pulled her out of Elsa's cave. Almost instinctively, he wrapped his good hand around her middle to comfort her from the bad memories of nearly dying in the freezing temperature. The feeling of being so helpless against the urge to lay down her head and give up the will to stay awake was a thorn in her side but he always seemed to love dethorning her so she nestled closer and calmed herself in his embrace that she would never have to go through another instance like that again as long as he was by her side.

As the nights watchmen dismounted and came to the camp housing the dead wildlings, the tempo of the music began to build as the scout ran from the creepy arrangement of bodies and that freaking terrifying child thingy impaled behind him; Emma felt Killian tense up instinctively. The instincts of a solider, she supposed, and the instinct to be on guard as the tension built for a coming attack. As they debated whether to go back for a further inspectio of how the wildings had died; Emma heard Killian mumble that the smarter thing to do would be to go back and pick up some reinforements to which she completely agreed. Going into a danger zone with little backup was a stupid idea, and of course her sailor was already imersed in the show even from the first few moments. She wondered for a moment at the thought of him in uniform as the shy deckhand persona that she'd seen in his cursed self ages ago entered her mind. Then her mouth slid into a sly smile at the thought of helping him out of that said uniform, after all every girl loves a man in uniform before clutching his hand on her stomarch as he jumped slightly at the first glance at the zombie wraiths as the jumpscare played out. He didn't jump out of fear, she knew with all her heart, but out of the instincts born out of combat and the need to fight that had been enforced in him all his life. Killian was no coward, an annoying moron at times but not ever a craven one. Not ever as he swore quietly at the screen, as the music grew and the last watchmen ran through the forest and fell at the feet of the wraith, hand itching at the growing need to get a sword and fight the unknown threat. But mark her words, he'd fear the day he'd ruin her new TV with his sword which would shortly be ramned up his backside.

She kissed his cheek as the opening credits rolled and he recipocated in kind. Gentle intimacy was rare from her yet always openly repriocated by him as if he was a dying man quenting his thirst for her in the innocent touches and kisses she was given from the man she liked, no loved, now. She'd never been one for PDA before but now, in his embrace, she was decidedly liking her newfound confidence in the relationship they had formed over the years. Could you blame her?

The screen returned to the action as the nightswatchmen from before emerged from the mist to face the intimidatating spears of the Stark soliders. Emma thought on the amount of horseback riding she had done over the last months in Camelot and the subsequent sores that had arised thanks to it; never more grateful for her little yellow beatle then when she returned. Cars were decidedly far more comfortable then horses, though the Jolly Roger was definately more comfortable then either, and a lot more versital for activities of the horizontal and verdical nature that she was determined to have now once life returned to normal. Sex in her tiny car was decidedly not as comfortable, what with the awkward positions and the likelyhood of being accidentally kneed or punched once things got interesting. She humed slightly, thinking of all the places she'd like to see a more intimately. The walls of the Captain's cabin? The mast's multide of ropes that would do nicely for some more naughtier of fantasy's? Or the wheel, which would be strong enough to hold on to once she'd enticed him into it. Very comfortable indeed!

The scene where Bran began to shoot arrows came on shortly, reminding her to ask her mother for lessons on archery so they could rekinder the bond that they had before the first curse had been broken and she had merely been Mary Margaret, her friend and roomate. That might help get keep the smoothering at a bareable level. As Emma watched on, she smiled on the innocence of the first episode in regarding the Starks, who were always her favourates. Personally she'd always imagened herself to be a lot like Arya, Snow as Catelyn, David as Ned and Killian to be a lot like a mixture of Robb's bravery and Jon's sulleness. Arya always seemed to be more interesting then season 1's Sansa, a complete badass if you'd ask her. Not to mention a lot more cheekier, in that moment, shooting an arrow at the target and embarising her brother, who's story bored the living crap out of her. Mini-Assassins were so more cooler then Seers who put her to sleep.

The execution scene was painful, the first rain of blood that flowed through the entire series, reminded her painfully of the almost execution of Morgana in Camelot when she was imprisoned by Arthur who'd gone mad as a result of Merlin's wish to protect him from death. Morgana wasn't a villain after all, just a really fucked up girl who'd seen far too much death in the world to want to see anymore and Emma considered her a friend when she escaped Arthur's clutches and had helped Emma escape the bonds that he'd trapped her in. She'd helped in the process in turning Emma back into the Saviour with her magic and had come back with her to Storybook in order to live out her life in quiet solitude as Belle's new helper in the library. Who knew that the bookkeeper would take a special shine to the stranger who smiled so little yet shone now she was free of Arthur's unwelcome looks of lust? She was happy and that mattered a great deal to Emma as her friend flourished in the week since from the attentions of Belle that were far beyond normal kindness. She nearly giggled at the startled face of Morgana when she'd gone in for a book a few days ago when she hastily drew back from Belle's suspiciously smeered lipstick. Who knew?

Killian tilted his head slighly at the scene with the dead Direwolf and the puppies, whispering how Henry had asked him earlier to try and convince her to get him a puppy off Archie's litter and that perhaps the boy needed a little companion now that was getting older and more responsible. She nodded, whispering back that she'd consider it if he'd behave. Killian smiled, nodding satified with her response and happy that he wouldn't have to deliver bad news onto her son. In the months before Emma had been rescued, he and Henry had grown close in their desire to find her again. Now she was back, she was already discovering a few quirks had begun to imprint themselves onto her boy like his tendency to scratch behind his ear when nervous or a growing confidence in talking to the opposite sex which had resulted in a few dates with Jeffeson's daughter Grace under the tutorlidge of Killian in the 'art of cultivating feminine attentions'. Her little boy was growing up, from the boy who'd found her all those years ago to the awkward teenager with a crush on the Mad Hatter's girl. It was adorable, unsettling at times since she'd just gotten back her baby only to slowly lose him with his growing up but still utterly adorable.

The scene with Cerei and Jaime at Kingslanding was fucking weird, as incesterous relationships with your brother go. Completely ew, but Killian didn't know that. Please to God, let him be disgusted, she thought in a flash of horror at the memories of history lessons where people married their cousins. She didn't know the enchanted forest's version of disgust at incest but she didn't want to deal with it if brothers and sisters could do that with acceptance. Ew, just ew.

Killian shuffled slightly behind her at the sight of Ned at the God's wood and the beautiful tree beside him as he heard of the previous Hand's death and the King's arrival. Although she didn't know as much about him as he did about her, he did tell her in the six weeks of bliss between crises a little on the subject of his mother. Just little bits and pieces, like how she liked apricot muffins more then chocolate, how she hated weapons on tables as much as elbows and how she loved wearing white and blue. The most noted was her fondness for the woods and streams where Killian had grown up and her staunch love of old trees like the one in the scene to read beside. Fond memories, spoken quietly on request but with a kindness that signalled a happy childhood before she dissapeared and his whole life was thrown apart. She liked it, the storys of how Liam, his brother, would chase him through the trees and how his mother would be sitting under them observing her daft sons in mock battle. While his father was a sailor, she learned that his mother was more secretive of her past life before her sons. How she'd become quiet or sullen when she was asked about it, as if bearing the weight of thousands on her shoulders with increasing dismay. Was she a former great lady who'd eloped with his father at the wrath of her parents? A former assassin escaping a life of danger to find a quiet retirement with her small family? He once joked that she must have been a wood elf who'd left her people after being found to be a little too facinated in the running of men for all he knew. It didn't matter to Killian, she was his mother and memories of her near trees like that was more important then anything like that such was his capability of seeing past a person's persona to view the real one inside.

Emma admittedly flustered a little at the sight of three wellbuilt men in the same room with their shirts off, causing a half-hearted jelouse huff from Killian, but really Emma preferred a little scruff to her men then a baby faced idiot. Especially when such a face gives a much better sensation between her legs then the normal ones, even with the beard burn that was admitedly a turn on for her. Yes, scuff was infinately important in her man, especially the man behind her who practically screamed experience in that sort of thing. Yet another thing she'll experience later on when she's sufficiently recovered, if she has anything to say about it.

She laughed suddenly when Catelyn yelled at Bran for climbing the battlements, feeling a sense of companionship with the woman when she remembered all the times she had to deal with Henry's adventurous moods which were further made harder thanks to Roland's michivious help. The two were like little devils according to Snow, who had taken to guarding any sweet desserts to make sure the two thieves were kept well away from her kitchen. It was adorable, annoying from the amount of complaining from Granny and Snow about their sugary exploits in both of their kitchens but still adorable.

She looked again towards Killian as Robert and the Royal family made their way up into Winterfell, finding him nostagically at odds with himself. The boy inside loving the pagendry involved and the memories of seeing the tourneys at the kingdom he served in which he recited in avid detail. Certaintly he loved the pomp, even though the man inside rebelled against the idea of monarch still to this day as a result of said kingdom's betrayal of him. He smiled at Robert hugging New, whispering how David will like that soon if he keeps dragging him down to the White Rabbit when the pressures of married life forced him to. She giggled, promising not to say anything to him when she sees him next as she knew how such meetings were helpful in encouraging David's acceptence of him as her partner and love of her life. Not to mention, the drunk texts from the six weeks were pretty much the highlight of anyone's life since Killian seemed to have an almost vulgar tongue on him when inberiated that would fluster anyone in a six block radius. David on the other hand was reminisent and moody, a bad drunk it seemed but a good way to off load the worries of fatherhood so she let it slide.

She bit her lip as she heared the cries of pleasure of the whores and Tyrion to keep in the laughter as Killian's eyebrows raise in amusement. He knew that sound, but hadn't realised that such things were so explict on TVs nor that I watched such things. The image of Tyrion being sucked off was funny as hell but the laughter behind her quickly stopped with a look of suprise at the image of a near naked Ros appeared with her breasts showing. Ah, theres the pirate she wanted. Emma shifted a little, innocently pressing her arse against Killian till her groaned and whispered how Emma was a 'little minx' and his shock at her 'dirty voyerism'. Clearly the man had never seen porn before, something that remarkably excited her. She snaked her hand down his side to tease him a little before the scene ended by placing her hand so very near the area that she wanted so much to be familar with before pulling away with a grin. She kissed him chasely and whispered 'later' before turning her attention back to the screen as Dany came back onto the screen with her incesterous brother. Ew, totally ruined the moment. Even if Dany is hot as hell, incest and selling a child to a savage is completely a turn off. Good sense and uncomfortable experience with wondering hands in the system from a man twice her age would do that to a girl. Not to mention the horror stories from Morgana about Arthur trying to force his way into her chambers when she was a child only to be saved by her quick thinking and feet. She told her about it in the weeks in Camelot, all the vulgar words he spoke to her rising out in her whispered words as she confided in the first friend she'd had in the world.

Tyrion was definately Killian's second favourite character next to Ned when he appeared next to speak to Jon. Killian and Tyrion's hatred of their fathers, a love of drink and women and a quick wit earned him that honour. She remembered Killian's murmer of how he hated his vile father who abandoned him at such a young age, and she knew then that Killian was just as much a mother's boy as she was her father's girl. David was her favourite parent, to be honest, with his gentle touch and calm words of caution outweighing her mother's overwhelming presence and stupidity when infuriated. We all have our favourite parents, like they have their favourite children, we are just better liars then they are.

The Wedding of Dany and Karl Drago and the subsequent nakednesss was very affective in rising the moral along with the bloodshed but the worried looks by Dany reminded her of what was to come. Emma looked at Killian and murmered caution to him and that the next scene isn't really that pleasant. Rape is never pleasant, no matter how the show writers tried to hide it later on. Emma never fell for the whole Drago/Dany romance thing, he didn't back off when she said no and that destroyed it before it could begin. Killian moved behind her, instinctively moving her head into his arms and hugging her tight so to block out what he knew to be coming. He held her close, closing his eyes and holding her through the entire thing. Good man that he was, he managed to block out the image by making her focus on something other then the scene in front of her. She looked back once it finished, looking again before remebering what else was coming. From marital rape to incest and attempted child murder. Killian startled once he saw what was occuring and gave out a line of swears and vulgar insults, disgusted as Emma had wished for with the image presented to him. Ew, just ew.

"Well that was uncomfortable"

"Do you want to stop?"

"You wanted to watch your show, give me a minute to stop myself from throwing up and we'll continue love."

Just ew.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

After a glass of rum, a little looks of disgust from Killian as he tried to destroy the images from before and a speech from Emma that yes, Game of Thrones is disgusting at times, but it is insightful and funny at others so she watches it only for that they continued their journey in Westeros with Episode 2. By her time, they would have enough time left to watch at least one more episode before Mary Margaret got back so if they wanted to watch more then they would have to make this a daily or weekly thing with a pact that they would watch every episode without skipping with each other as a sort of exersise in wills or rather gag reflex.

They settled in each other's arms as the episode began to play, drawing strength on each other's presence and the mere comfort they provided. He played anxiously with the tangles in her hair while she stroked the creases and caluses gathered from years of hard work on his hands. The reminder of the events of the last episode and the rape of Dany ghosted over both of their memories as Jeor tried in vain to comfort her; the beginnings of his love for her or an attempt to win her trust? It did not matter, since the message seemed to present the idea that Dany had to deal with Drogo raping her and should learn to accept it as the normal standard of marriage which was seriously fucking disturbing considering its being done by her brother, a vile idiot if there ever was one, for a freaking horde of horses. As if she were loot or a trade for such things instead of a living being with her own autonomy. Emma had seen this before, on the streets where many of the girls she met had agreed to violent relationships with men older then them for the simple reward of a soft bed or hot food. Fortunetly she could steal her way into both but for others they weren't so lucky and they had the bruises to show for it. There was nothing Emma hated more then those who would do such a thing to them, treating them like shit for an hour or two and taking advantage of their circumstances for their own ends. Granted Killian had paid for sex and readily admited it; but he had the grace to say he never abused nor treated unfairly a wench he had met for the night nor use their circumstances against them. If they were poor and did it to survive, he would of course accept their services but also direct them to those he knew would help in times of need or in some circumstances pay them handsomly for the deed beyond the usual pittence they normally got. He may of been a pirate back then but also a gentlemen, and she trusted his word.

Tyrion's bitch-slapping Joffery was so rewarding that Killian loudly cheered next to her, praising his directness and criticising the craven behaviour of Joffery and his sexist behavior of the 'wailing women' as if they were the only ones to show outwardly emotion yet wailing like a little bitch when hit across the face by the Imp. Go cry to mommy Joffery, and get hit again for being a pathetic moron and ignoring the pain of his hosts. Emma smirked a little at the idea that Killian has thus shown little caring for Joffery at the moment and how he's only going to become an even worser pain in the ass as the season moves on. She leaned over to coffee table and grasped a bag of popcorn she had fished out of the cabinets while Killian tried to recover from the last episodes' filth, getting slightly hungry at the sight of the breakfast set out for the Lannisters. She had already dismantled her plate at dinner earlier but she was still starving all the same. Food had always been in low supply for her in her youth that now in her adulthood; she could eat all day and still eat more at nighttime. At the moment she was craving something fried, eggs perhaps? Or bacon? Or both? The episode would last only around another hour so she could eat something then and wait it out with the bag of salted treats she'd secreted from the cabinet where David hid all of his less healthier items. She offered some to Killian but he declined, popcorn was not one of his favourites he had decided after a try before. Far too messy, it got stuck in his teeth and wasn't exactly a satisfying meal to consume. He'd prefer something more sweeter, chocolate or peppermint commonly, and she'd teased him for days after he first admited this for being her 'sweet toothed captain'. He replied by kissing her passionately and telling her that she was far more delicious then any treat he'd come across in any realm he'd been in. Except perhaps a kind of boiled apricot/chocolate chew from Wonderland. She'd smacked him for that.

Emma refocused on the action at hand, watching Cersei show even the hint of humanity over the loss of her child. The story was beautiful, but she had to wonder if the whole thing was a lie. Cersei never mentioned having any other children but Joffery, Tommen and Mycella later on. It's possible she had made it up but to make up such a story was unthinkable by Emma's opinion. A tear escaped her grasp as Killian looked towards her with eyes full of empathy as he whipped away the trail from her face. The loss of a child is a sacred thing, that she knew all too well. How could Cersei stand there lying about it unless she truly did have a 'black-haired beauty' and simply refused to think about it later on? She had to, no one was that immoral as to invent a story about such things. Perhaps? Emma focused on the love of Catelyn for Bran in the little moment after Cersei left and the evident desire of her for Bran to wake up from his mini coma and be with her again. It was the same emotion that Emma had felt before, brushing Henry's hair back as she wished to all the gods that he'd return to her after taking the sleeping curse from her and promising everything if they gave her the only thing she could ever desire; her boy alive and well in her arms. Motherly love was something it seemed would never change, no matter the time, place or even realm and for that Emma was thankful for.

Settling again in Killian's arms, she kissed his skin gently as a sign that she was ok before focusing back on the actions on the screen. Jaime Lannister was being a prick, oh what a change, to Jon and trying to intimidate him away from taking the black. Fortunetly his 'lovely' ass-face was quickly replaced by Arya's badass self as she recieved needle from Jon. Killian had told her once that he'd recieved his first steel blade when he was sixteen and had to promise to sharpen it every day without fail to his brother before he ever allowed to hold it. A little blade that his mother had hidden in a chest at home, hardly even a penknife really but still a blades a blade. The hilt had been slightly damaged by use and age but the blade was fine for keeping the gruffles and grumpkins at bay at night and the idea of Liam trusting him to keep the blade safe was enough for him. Of course, now he fought with a cutlass but he still had the blade safetly locked inside the safe in his quarters on the Jolly Roger. An heirloom of a happier time, he called it, which could still have some usage in it if Henry ever wanted it. The implication was that if the two of them ever did have children of their own, they would train with it, and at the time Emma focused on ignoring this idea but now, safe and secure in the arms of a man who'd happily die to protect his family, she could safetly say she wasn't totally opposed to a little one running around causing mischief with his eyes and her hair, or maybe his hair and her eyes? And the tries to make such a child would so be worth it, even if it took a long, long time.

The issue of Jon's bastardry ran through Emma's head alongside visions of possible children in the future. If they ever did return to the enchanted forest, would Henry be able to become her heir since she is first in line for the throne since she never married Baefire and thus had him outside of marriage just like Jon. If that was the case then any children they had in the future or any children by her brother would outrank him in terms of right to the throne; would this make him resentful to any siblings or cousins in the future for losing him that right? Of course, he would inherit Regina's part of the kingdom as her sole heir as her adopted son but he couldn't inherit her part as well if he was deamed a bastard when they returned to the enchanted forest. But he was her firstborn, her eldest child who'd rescued her from the lonliness of New York and brought her here into Storybook to a family she never even imagined she'd have. Damn the social conventions, he would inherit everything if she had her say about it. If the time ever came when they did return to the enchanted forest; she resolved herself to fight tooth and nail for her child's right to the throne and against those who'd try and treat him like an outcast. It was a challenge that she was sure to win, for she loved challenges and her love for her boy outcasted any doubts as to being defeated. She also resolved to try and speak of her time with Neal as a teenager despite her reluctance to resurface any memories from that period of her life. He deserved to know about him, despite her discomfort on the matter, and the type of man he was back then. She vowed not to spare him from the truth on any of it, from the bravery he showed in thievery to the cowardice of his abandonment of her. Neal didn't die a hero or a villain, he was just a person from her past and that was all she could see him as now.

The antics of Robert and Ned reminded her of the storys that Killian volunteered to tell her about in order to comfort her when she'd confided in him her doubts of whether she could handle being a good sister to her as of then unborn brother. He told her of exploits so fantastical that she could hardly believe them to be true until he provided evidence in the form of trophies from the multitudes of pranks and acts of teenaged rebellion that the two brothers had commited under the very nose of their tutors and guardians. After being abandoned by their father and being conscripted into the navy thanks to the patronage of a family friend, the two boys found a home at the academy where they both studied and like all children their age sought to have as much michief as they could find. While other boys attending the academy studied, it became accepted that the two boys were not in the slightest bit interested in the boring debates between theologians and their collegues so preferred to climb the slate roofs of the academy's buildings and generally cause chaos in their wake by spitting plum stones at the heads of passing scholars, shouting rude streams of vulgarity during lectures and steal all sorts of treats from the academy's kitchens. They therefore grew up coarse and relatively uninterested in the events of the outside world; preferring instead the quiet lives of the resident ruffians terrorising the equally uninteresting scholars passing through the academy's gates. This of course wasn't to last when the brothers decided amongst themselves to finally grow up and start actually paying attention to the words of their tired caretakers; but ever so often Emma could still see the michievious side of the man she loved emerge as she told of yet another prank the local children of Storybook had played on the people around them (the victim often being either Archie or one of the dwarves who awoke to all manners of intricate pranks it seemed every week). Hopefully any child of theirs would be free enough to be passed off some wisdom from their moron of a father and cause mayhem for years to come.

Killian held Emma tigher when another reminder of the disgusting relationship between Dany and Drago appeared to lower the mood, stroking her arm and muttering that he'd better get him comeuppance some day or another for his actions against her. She kissed his palm, silently trying to tell him that she was fine and wasn't freaking out about the whole thing. Whispers of Arthur's subtle threats against her in the final days of her confinement played through her mind and she knew that he had her locked up enough so that she couldn't have resisted him if threats became reality. Morgana's intervention was her savior from such a fate and she'd repayed her in kind when she finally captured the mad kind inside of Pandora's box and put an end to Morgana's nightmares with the help of Merlin. Camelot was saved alongside her friend and now Emma was determined not to waste the oportunity awarded to her with regards to the progression of her relationship with Hook. If she could sneak out tonight, and if she was still in the mood after this episode, she'd certaintly be happy to show exactly how happy she is to be with him again. Many, many times over.

Emma clutched his hand in a deathgrip while Catelyn and the assassin grappled over the dagger on the screen. The blood running down the woman's hands as she tried to hold the knife away from her and force it back into the man's hands was not overtly gory but still a little sickening. It reminded her of the tussle between Cruella and her during the last year before Emma forced her off the cliff to her death. There was blood then too, falling in streams from her cracked head as a result of the fall and the idea of her being a murderer still sickened her. She knew she was protecting Henry, but the actual act of killing someone, even a villain, was revolting. She'd never really killed anyone before, the lost boys in Neverland were only knocked out or slightly injured while the boys who'd tried to attack her as a child got away with a few bruises or cuts in the foster homes she'd spent her life in. Like Catelyn as well, it seemed wolves were the protectors of Emma and her family after Graham's wolf managed to get her to stay in Storybook long enough to break the curse and gain the family she always wanted. Even after Graham had died, she still felt reasurred everytime she could hear them in the woods outside of Storybook at night as if she'd always have a little pack of protectors to keep her safe in the long hours of darkness.

Killian shifted a little behind her, gently so as not to disturb her, so he could rest less of his weight on his bad arm, which she knew to sometimes plague him with phantom pains that went on for hours. Wearing the brace keeping his hook or the fake hand on chaffed him, though he never mentioned it to anyone. She knew though, she could read him as he read her like the book he remarked on so many times. She smoothed her hands over the skin avaliable to her, pushing back the sleaves on his shirt to reveal more, before massaging it with tender and sensual care. She loved him with or without his hand, and sought every day to prove to him this message through careful touches and actions. He shifted again, this time not out of discomfort but ... ah, there it was ... it was empowering to see that with a mere caress she could excite every part of him, especially the part she decidedly liked best. It helped that the tv created a little more atmosphere for his growing problem, showing Dany learning to use her sexuality and explore it with the help of Doreah in a slightly arousing sight of girl-on-girl action. If Killian got this excited by a mere touch and vague girl-on-girl action then she'd love to see his face later on when he sees what the series has in store for him. Temporarily distracted from the action by his reaction; Emma started to see how far she could take this before he'd snap by nuzzling his jawline which she had to admit looked like it was cut by an anvil. She nipped playfully for a little, savouring his slightly laboured breaths and stiffled moans of pleasure at her brazen behaviour, before settling down again to see what she'd missed. Oh, great a Sansa scene, how dull and unexciting compared to the previous thrills she got from teasing Killian's patience.

Emma cheered a little when Arya arrived on screen with the butcher's boy, clapping when she attacked Joffery and made him cry like the little piece of shit he was. Honestly, there was no one in the world she could hate more then that little shit and she didn't think anyone could blame her. Emma hated bullies, it was one of the reasons she'd become a bailbonds person. She didn't like it when men knocked around their wives or stole from hardworking families. She could feel Killian smile behind her at her antics, but a subtle glance told her that he was taking the chance to try and cool down a little after her enticement earlier. She liked that about him, that he'd never presure her into anything and always let her lead the way in the relationship's boundries. He was a gentlemen first and fullmost, despite the fact that he clearly wanted to jump her and fuck her until she couldn't walk again. The events on the screen didn't seem to interest her anymore as Ned was forced to kill Lady and Bran woke up as she began to try and estimate how long she had until Snow would come home. Not long enough for what she wanted, but a few things can be done until then.

When the screen turned black and the credits began to roll, Emma moved her hand towards the remote to eject the disc to use another day. Although days when her parents would leave them alone to their solitude were few and far between, Emma was determined to stick by her promise to watch the entire thing with him and wouldn't break it due to that. Her laptop was being used by Henry at the moment for a schoolproject but he'd give it back tommorow if she promised him dinner at Granny's as a reward. That boy was growing up and that meant he could eat like a horse and still be shuffling treats into his mouth everytime she looked at him.

"You know, we could continue this tommorow night in your quarters on the Jolly Roger. I have my laptop, and Regina said she'd keep him this week. Plus, I think the next couple of episodes will be very interesting for you, a lot of swash and buckle. Don't you think?" she looked up at him through her lashes and she knew she had him crumbling in the palm of her hands as usual. Killian was always weakwilled when it came to her charms and Emma was determined to use every means necessary to get him to agree to be with her again. He said he wouldn't leave her again, now he had to prove that despite the quite gross content, he was a man of his word. Every means necessary would be employed for this goal, and Emma was up to the challenge of getting him to agree to her command. Just like how something else was certaintly ... going up ...

"Hmm, sounds interesting" he nearly purred as she crept closer and closer to him, itching with desire. Her knee 'accidentally' brushed a noticable bulge in his trousers as she closed the distance between their mouths. Emma could safetly say that she could spend hours kissing this man, dragging her lips across the familar plains of his mouth, body, hell anywhere really.

"Not as interesting as being all alone now, in this very empty room!" she replied saucily, nearly giggling at the presence of the dimples making their appearance on Killian's face as he smiled with content at having her in his arms. She licked her lips, quickly becoming more and more interested by him then the action on screen. He always did taste so delicious when he kissed her, a sort of mixture of sweet and spice that left her with plenty of material for midnight wandering hands and panting breaths.

"Is that so?" he was smirking that arrogant shit-eating grin again, the one that could get a girl, and even several boys, out of their pants in seconds if he'd just raise one of his expressionate eyebrows. Cocky son of a bitch that he was, in more ways then one at this moment of time, he let his hand wander a little to take up residence on the outside of her thigh. It was a cautious movement, his eyes looking out for any signs of dissagreement from her, but on the sound of her relaxed sigh it became bolder as it twitched inwards to where she wanted it most. His eyes darkened from the bright forget-me-not blue that normally highlighted his face to an almost navy as he became enamoured by her blatent permission to go further. Each patch of skin began to burn her, making her blood run far, far away from her head towards her lower quarters. She caught his stare with determination, leaning in again to the fire like a moth to the flame; not caring anymore if she burned as long as he touched her again. She whimpered slightly as his fingers settled where she wanted them and began to explore under the fabric of her sweatpants that had surely met better days. Did she shave recently? Would that matter to him if she didn't? Emma didn't really know the protocal of that in the enchanted forest, so perhaps it wouldn't affect him if she had really let herself go a little over the past few months.

Pushing her weight fully onto the couch, he settled above her with a groan of pleasure at the contact. The two lost themselves for a moment, tongues plundering each other's mouths like the pirate and thieves they were. She could feel him pressed against her thighs, hot and wanting for her despite the thin fabric of her panties and sweatpants. She grasped his shirt, needing something to help her yank him ever closer in her quest to consume him and all of his sexy pirate charms. Years of flirting, ineudendos and quick flashes of contact built up to this moment leading Emma to think that this may just be the first time that a guy manages to get her to come while still completely clothed like a prom night virgin. He ground against her, palms running across her bra covered breasts with animalistic need. So fucking close ...

The sound of footsteps near the door snapped the two of them out of their make out session as clothes were quickly put to right, hair mussed back into place and deep breaths were taken to even out their heartrates.

"See you tommorrow then Swan?" Killian had the nerve to wink as he ducked out the door before her returning mother, blissfully unaware thanks to being distracted by a neighbour's animated speech about the apartment's need for better waste disposal, could catch them in the act. Emma smirked, well who wouldn't when in a few hours they could be nestled in the arms once again of a 'devilishly handsome' pirate where they could carry on where they last left off without fear of being walked in on by her parents. After all, she had a little pirate in her too and wanted a whole of a lot more by tommorow night's end, that's for sure.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Emma anxiously went over everything in her head again, replaying again and again the list of what she should bring to her night in with her captain. Obviously sexy lingerie; Killian seemed to fancy her in black and red so she packed a nice little number that pushed up the girls and made her look like a sexual vixen that fed into this category. But she knew Killian would most likely rip anything she wore apart the first time they go at it so she also packed several alternatives. An innocent white sheer lace babydoll outfit with matching thong to inspire a little of the pirate side out of her captain ready to pillage his virginal quarry. An intricately feather-like embroided bustier set remincient of the outfits she'd worn during her stinct as the Dark One to play into one of her many other fantasies of ravaging her innocently nieve sailor who'd fallen to her devilish charms. And finally an exotic number she'd got once in order to get close to a mark who often frequented high-class sex parties but never worn since she managed to snag him in a local convience store shopping for porno mags; a firey hot red basque and g-string attached garter set trimmed in lace and black ribbons that made her look like a freaking subcumbus when she tried it on in the store. Hopefully, the number could assist her introduce her captain to the joys of the modern world's practice of a lap dance which she'd so be happy for. Of course she'd got an extra change of clothes that were innocent enough that no one would suspect the town's sherrif of doing a walk of shame at whatever hour that she escaped the arms of her man. Then there was make-up, perfume and of course being the responsible woman she was she also brought enough contraception to stop any little bundles of joy from emerging from tonight. Sure, she'd love to have a child with him one day but tonight was all for her and nothing else. Once that was all packed along with the laptop and box set, all Emma could do was worry that something might go wrong. What if an emmergency occured in town? What if Henry became sick? What if Killian found her to be lacking when compared to his three hundred years of experience? He's been around the block to be sure, could she ever compare to the other women he'd been with? What if he was terrible at it and all of the sexual prowess he seemed to have was a lie? She calmed herself, Killian and she were practically masters of sex, there was no reason to worry. David was covering the Saviour role and could handle it for tonight. Henry was with Regina who had the magic to protect him. There was no reason to panic, no fucking reason at all.

All too soon it became time to leave, the clock was ticking and she quickly made her excuses and left the loft awkwardly knowing that Snow knew she wasn't coming back tonight. Knowing that your daughter was going off to have sex with a pirate you saw everyday and most likely was either wearing or had in her possession the sort of lingerie that Emma knew she knew about was kinda disturbing and Snow had made apsolutely no conversation about it due to this. As she walked to the harbour, clad in the red and black number lingerie, leggings, boots, blouse and saviour leather jacket, she began to lose her nerve yet again. Only sheer force of will and an almost undying amount of trust and lust for her pirate made her put one foot in front of the other.

He greeted her as she came aboard, kissing her forehead in hello, before guiding her to his quarters so they could watch the rest of the first season of Game of Thrones and deflower their relationship. She giggled at the exagerated bow he gave her and the mutter of being a gentlemen when he held open the door to his quarters before noticing the effort he'd gone to in order to make the night as special as he could. Any trace of Blackbeard's tacky soveiners was gone, replaced by the institutionalised order that Killian prided himself on, neat-freak that he was. It was romantic of course with candles burning around them, newly cleaned silk sheets and blankets draping the small bed to the side of the room and if her eyes wasn't decieving her a bottle of wine and a variety of food containers giving off an array of wonderful smells that made her stomarch sing. Arms wrapped around her middle as he hugged her from behind and kissed the sensative lines connecting her neck and shoulder with added sensuality. She smiled and turned wordlessly into his embrace; kissing him softly in gratitude for the obvious show of how important he found tonight to be in the evolution of their relationship and how he wanted to woo her even after winning her heart with simple gestures like this to show how important she was to him.

She dragged him over slowly to the bed, pushing him back against the headboard before crawling up to meet his lips in a passionate exchange of tongue and heat that surged once again up her spine before settling her head on his shoulder and setting up the laptop so that it would balance on her lap for them both to see. The act of actually selecting the episode in question was made further difficult by Killian's unwillingness to stop nuzzling her or kissing the expanse of skin made available to him while she was distracted. She wasn't afraid to say she'd moaned quite a bit even before it started; but since he was being a pain in the ass she decided to punish him a little by stripping off to show the selected lingerie she had spent an hour choosing to his eager eyes that darkened in a flash once he finished staring in awe at the amount of skin that was made visable to him. His steady fingers cheekily started playing with the fabric above her panties before being batted away by her almost lazily dismissal of him.

"Be good, then we'll see about getting you a very handsome reward!" she spoke in a tone she hoped that would settle his pouting expression that reminded her of an adorable puppy unable to grab a treat from its owner. Settling in, Emma knew she was making the right decision.

After all, how will she ever watch her show if she's being distracted by her cassanova of a partner considerable talents?


End file.
